Serpent
by Chromick
Summary: The most dangerous temptations are those that live as innocence. [Nanofate, AU, pedophilia, non-linear, see warnings within.] Intended as a three-shot.


_**Serpent **_

_A Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha fanfic by Chromick_

_Genre: Angst/Romance (somewhat; that's probably the best description the tags and the author are capable of.) __**Warnings for non-linear storytelling!**_

_Rating: Strong M, for __**sexual content involving an adult and a minor**__. And masturbation. And some other unsavory things. _

_Pairing: NanoFate-adult Nanoha, child Fate. See author's note._

_Setting: AU, modern day, et cetera. I try to keep the story congruent with a modern Japanese setting, but the setting isn't really that important. _

_A/n: Originally, this was going to be a light-hearted fluff piece. Then I realized that would be somewhat distasteful, and I had a much better idea...if you want to call me a child-molesting devil-worshipper or gripe about the subject matter then do so in the privacy of your own mind or on the social networking site of your choice. Flames are, however, welcome, so long as they are about the piece itself and not the moral voracity of the author._

* * *

_**I. Original Sin**_

That Christmas, she'd gotten the dog. It was a monstrous little scrap of a thing, big for a puppy and bright red; it destroyed everything it touched unintentionally, unaware of its strength and full of energy. It painted a sour expression on her foster mother's face when the dog began eating the wrapping paper and coughed it up onto the kitchen floor-but the glowing fondness on her little daughter's face when she began calling it "Arf" (a surprisingly simple name for such an eloquent child) was well worth the suffering of next year's gift recipients.

Nanoha was fourteen then, in a phase where she wore a lot of blue. She remembered the sweater she'd worn that day, blue and white with a reindeer on the front, an atrocious gift resulting from parental negligence; the sweater had been thrown away, but there were times when she still thought about it, for whatever reason.

Maybe it was nostalgia-it was the first time she'd been invited to have Christmas with the Harlaown family, and despite herself she was enjoying it. It seemed odd that they would invite their daughter's babysitter to their family Christmas, but Lindy was that kind of woman: evidenced by the fact that the guests at her party later that day were all people she'd probably befriended within the preceding week.

Fate wrestled with the dog, hair falling out of the festive green bow once tied neatly on the back of her head. She laughed every time it jokingly bit her hand, putting its mouth around her small fist theatrically. Lindy fidgeted, telling her to stop it from doing that, since it might learn to bite for real if allowed to continue. Fate professed her nonchalance and patted the dog on its oversized head, cooing at it. Nanoha continued to feel out of place as she watched the exchange, tugging on threads of the awful sweater in the hope it would disappear.

Fate had come up to her, hands extended, offering her a gift wrapped in newspaper (the sports pages, which she had most likely stolen from her older brother) chirped, "Merry Christmas", and stood there fingering the hem of her shirt nervously, waiting for Nanoha to open it.

Inside was a stone, originally brown and grey, that had been tumbled to a soft hazel with streaks of black. The stone would spend two years in a desk drawer before moving to a privileged position on her mantel, hidden behind photographs and polished by anxious thumbs.

She thanked her, smiling and grateful, not really caring too much about it at the time. She did, however, feel a little flare of _something _when Fate smiled right up to her eyes, glad to have found a suitable offering. She later discovered that it had been Fate who had asked her mother to invite her, all so she could give her the stone.

It made her, momentarily, feel bad that she had nothing to give in return.

* * *

"I think the black ribbons look better."

"You always say that, Nanoha."

"Well, it does. Some people just look good in certain colors, you know?"

"I like the red ones, though."

"Then wear it; they both look fine."

"You're no help, Nanoha."

"Ha. You _could_ wear both, Fate-chan."

"That would look strange. Maybe I should wear the white ones."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Fine, I'll wear the black ones."

"I thought so."

* * *

Fate always looked good in black. She gave off an air of hidden gloominess, one that Nanoha always felt almost sadistically compelled to draw out; if it had been up to her (and it wasn't) Fate would have worn black most of the time. She also looked nice in white, on occasion, since it had a way of making her look eerie and broken (Nanoha would never admit to this, of course).

They were climbing into Nanoha's shiny-exterior-train-wreck-interior thoroughly teenage sedan, Fate nervously grooming her hair and dress. The dress was green, and she picked stray dog hairs off of it to give her hands something to do. Arf had been characteristically undeterred from leaping all over her to say goodbye.

They were going to some event where Lindy intended to introduce her family to her coworkers, and Fate had been reluctant to go at all (unsurprisingly, Nanoha mused, asserting that if it had been her decision she would know not to ask) but was now preening resignedly.

"You look nice, Fate-chan." She admitted, patting her shoulder with well-placed reassurance. She didn't tell her not to be nervous, not seeing the point but seeing the detriment quite clearly.

"I...hope mother thinks so." Fate whispered. "I don't want to embarrass her, or anything."

Nanoha said nothing.

Those self-doubting inflections were the verbal manifestation of the same tick that caused Fate to hide from guests or flinch when embraced; Nanoha knew that trying to bolster Fate's confidence was a futile effort, since any arguments she would give (true as they were) would sound just like what everyone else always told her.

It seemed like Fate appreciated it, at any rate.

She did look nice, even if she wasn't wearing black.

* * *

She smelled sweat, vague and displaced; It was an undertone to the urgent buzz of physical need, burning in her stomach and between her legs. The room was too dark to see her, and her eyes hadn't adjusted yet, but she could feel her, squirming on the sheets and grasping for contact. Her searching hand landed on a loosely clothed forearm, the undone shirt falling down an inch or two farther. She was over her now, not daring to lower herself or reciprocate the touch.

_"Nanoha?"_

Her name was spoken, questioning with childish longing. It caught in her ears, the subliminal request eliciting a heady, languid sigh as she wallowed in the power of it-her own unsated want thickened. She crooked her elbows, lowering to press her body gently against the smaller one below her. Both exhaled, equally apprehensive, now feeling a small release as if it were the signal to begin. But, for a slow, foggy instant, she relished the press of breath behind skin and muscle, her heartbeat thumping dully like something was trying to escape her ribcage. She could also, she theorized, have felt each individual rib had she pressed herself hard enough. But she remained slightly removed, not wanting to suffocate her (she was so small, so fragile).

_ "I love you, Nanoha."_

There was another whisper, pleading with desire. It was odd, to hear such pleas from her, no matter how many times she'd longed to hear them, like the granting of an impossible wish.

"_I love you, Fate." _

She breathed hotly into her ear, daring to kiss it. Though her own mouth was so warm, she could feel heat rising from her body, and small, gentle hands clenching the cloth of her shirt with increasing pressure.

"_I want..."_

She felt a bit cruel then, in her desperation to hear her _beg_. She placed herself more firmly atop her lower torso, straddling her but still pressing against that chest that rose and fell and emanated heat.

_What do you want? _

"_I..."_

Her voice was strained, torn between the warring forces of lust and fear and affection.

Slowly, she grasped her hand (the same way she'd led her into her room to show her drawings or accomplishments) and placed it right below her navel, tantalizingly close to the line of pubis.

"_Please."_

* * *

Halfway through the event, Fate climbed back into Nanoha's car, cheeks and eyes flushed red. She wiped her face, not making a sound, shoulders shaking imperceptibly. She pulled the bows from her hair, one and then the other, allowing it to fall over her back and hide her.

Brashly, Nanoha put her hand on her shoulder and left it there, thumb stroking in small circles.

"Do you want me to take you home?" She asked. Fate nodded.

"I screwed up." she stared at the ribbons on her lap. "I just couldn't say anything, in front of everyone; it was like I lost my voice." She turned them over in her hands, as if hoping to find evidence of her failure in them.

"Your mom won't be mad." Nanoha continued to rub her shoulder, "She doesn't mean any harm, and she doesn't blame you. She just doesn't..." she found herself unable to articulate it in any kinder way, "...understand. About you."

Nanoha like to think she understood. In fact, her sense of self rested solely upon that fact, and its surety.

"Can you stay over?" Fate asked quietly. It was a rhetorical question, more of a quiet command than anything. Nanoha nodded.

The rest of the ride there was silent, Nanoha feeling a guilty sort of content slipping over her from being allowed to remain in physical contact with Fate for such a long period of time.

* * *

They'd been teasing Fate about the pink dress, the one that her grandmother had sent for her ninth birthday. It was a bit too archaic, too ruffled, the kind of dress girls are expected to wear but that look grotesque in reality.

"Don't take a picture, mama!" she whined, genuine frustration on her face. Her hands were balled into sporadic fists, pulling the material of the dress. Nanoha snickered.

"You look so cute, though, Fate-chan." She reached out to poke her arm. "Like a princess or something."

The image of a princess didn't suit Fate, overall, but Nanoha didn't mind forays into such fantasies. She still preferred her in black.

"I don't like it. It's too...poofy." She all but snarled at the lacey trim of the dress.

"Well, this is about what a wedding dress feels like. Except it has less pink." Lindy laughed, covertly snapping a picture with her cell phone. Fate didn't notice.

The subject of weddings always filled Nanoha with a certain amount of dread, often attributed by her mother to "independence". She had no particular feelings about it herself, but found the fact that they were even talking about it to a child mildly distasteful.

"Then I don't wanna get married." She patted Arf's head, brooding. Arf sniffed the dress, interest fleeting.

"You have to, sometime." Chrono, passing through with an apple in his mouth, grinned at his sister with sharp, boyish teeth. She fretted.

"Wha-at? You're lying, Nii-chan. Lots of people don't get married. Mama isn't married!"

"Chrono-" Lindy rolled her eyes, before he continued.

"They're just not married yet. If nobody got married, there wouldn't be people, right?"

Nanoha felt the urge to punch him, hard. At the very least, he wasn't going to shatter his sister's innocence any time soon.

"Then..." she paused, thoughtful, before turning to Nanoha. "I bet if I married Nanoha, she wouldn't make me wear a dress like that. Right?" The hopeful smile she gave her made Nanoha's heart stop, before she remembered it was a joke and she was expected to play along.

"I wouldn't." She smiled back.

"Stupid. You can't marry girls." Chrono crunched on his apple, tossing it between his hands.

"Why not?" Fate faltered.

"Yes, indeed, why not?" Lindy gave him a glare that would have frightened more perceptive boys.

"Because they're _both _girls. Only a guy and a girl can make babies. Plus, Nanoha's way older than you."

"_You're_ stupid, Nii-chan." Fate huffed, sitting down and leaning back on Nanoha's legs. Arf looked around in confusion before giving up and placing her head in Fate's lap.

The damage had already been done, so despite Fate's closeness her pulse slowed.

* * *

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands."

It had been a long time since Fate had wanted to sit in Nanoha's lap, but she had requested it for today. Nanoha reclined against the couch, one hand meandering through Fate's hair and another resting on her leg. A rational part of her hoped the position seemed motherly rather than overtly affectionate. Her eyelids were lowered with relaxation.

"What do you mean?" Nanoha kept her voice at a gentle, sleepy lilt.

"You don't..." she paused, searching, "You don't talk down to me. Or try to make me act more...confident, or anything." She clutched the fabric of Nanoha's shirt, moving just a bit closer.

Sometimes she wondered if what Fate felt was similar to what she did. She knew that was highly improbable, since at most what she probably felt was the affection of a younger sister or a daughter, maybe, clinging onto a nurturing kindred spirit.

She liked to think they were alike, anyway.

She knew that Fate didn't feel the same burning when they touched, too innocent to ponder embraces that lasted too long or unnecessary displays of physical affection (all of them dangerous to Nanoha's sanctity and sanity). She had even been bold enough on occasion to kiss her cheek no more than an inch from her mouth, that last bit of restraint her saving grace; she had no idea how she would hold off forever, but instead clung to the hope her desire would subside in time and never repeat itself.

"I love you." A whisper into Nanoha's neck created cold air against tear-wetted skin.

"I..." Nanoha began, but didn't have the courage to finish. Instead she wrapped her arms around Fate and pulled her closer, even as the feeling of distance became more acute.

* * *

During the summer between Fate's fourth and fifth years, she and her family had taken a vacation overseas to visit Lindy's relatives. Nanoha had come over the night before to say her goodbyes; she hadn't intended to, since she didn't know what she would say or do when faced with the prospect of Fate _leaving _for over two months, but apparently Fate had wanted to see her. She had no way of denying that request, so she went.

The house was in a state of complete chaos, piled with suitcases and laden with family members rushing about. Chrono had invited his girlfriend along (Nanoha could never remember her name) and she was helping him carry the vast amount of luggage into the car.

Fate had appeared out of nowhere, looking happy and sad at the same time. She was too shy to hug Nanoha, and her conflicting affection and embarrassment was far too clearly evident on her face. Nanoha gladly swept her up in her arms, cursing at herself for being so attached.

Still, just that small instance of warmth made her sigh contentedly, and she hoped Fate hadn't heard it.

She told Nanoha quietly that she wished she could have come with them, that she'd miss her terribly. If it weren't for her own frustration over Fate's absence she would have been ecstatic that she was talking about her like that; but, for that moment, she savored the embrace.

They left the following morning. Nanoha, ironically, had been entrusted with keeping the house until they got back. Mostly it meant going over after her shifts at the cafe and checking to make sure the place hadn't burned down.

She held out until about the fifth day on going into Fate's room. Unable to resist temptation, and with no foreseeable witnesses, she decided to go in-it made her feel unclean, somehow, but there was still that nagging curiosity and downright obsession telling her to do it.

Having been in Fate's room plenty of times before, there was ostensibly nothing new to see. The walls were a yellowish off-white, decorated sparsely with photographs, achievements, and the occasional drawing. Fate probably would have left the walls bare but Lindy insisted that she put up _something_, to make the room less empty. Most of the furniture was black or red, the pastel pinks long since traded out once she got a choice in her own decorations.

Most of all, the room was so very _imbued _with Fate, to the point where it made Nanoha's head spin. She decided that was her excuse for curling up on the bed.

The bed smelled like her. The whole room actually smelled like her, but it was thickest on the bed. Nanoha hugged herself to shield against the warm, fluttering feeling in her She managed to hold back the urge to take one of the pillows, but not for long.

Nanoha curled her torso around the pillow, clutching the case between tentative fingers. After holding it for a few minutes, it had warmed up, and she fancied (in a fit of excess) that she was holding onto Fate herself, an illusion soft and tepid that did nothing but darken her mood.

"I miss you." She said to the room, to nothing in particular. "I hope you're having fun in England."

Nothing answered.

"That's a lie, though. I wish you missed me. Petty, huh?" She huffed out a sardonic chuckle. "You'd hate that."

The pillow was cold.

"Y'know, I wonder if I'm screwed up somehow. Or sick. If someone could fix me. But I like you too much."

Her hand slid down her stomach and hesitated at her waist. She burrowed her face further into the pillow, warming it with her breath and sinking down on her side. She fiddled with her belt.

"How fucked up am I?" She whispered, her fingers recoiling from her own heat. She could smell herself, and Fate, and it aroused her as much as it made her nauseous.

She prodded her insides searchingly, fumbling through flesh and liquid without making a sound; it felt as if she were being watched, judged, and if she showed any signs of pleasure it would condemn her. She cried instead.

The only sound Nanoha made, after the release, curled into herself and clenching her hair with damp hands, was the sound of breaking.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, and throw some constructive criticism my way, if you feel so inclined. _


End file.
